The flu
by AllTheWrongLoves
Summary: 'But in the end, Sully felt like he had reached the teen in a new way. As a friend.' little Nate catches the flu and Sully realizes a thing or two.


**I don't know how or why I thought this up . I guess that happens when you eat like five candy bars and listen to a song about traveling in time. I don't own any of Naughty Dogs characters.**

Sully had grown a pattern with the kid within the first few months; every day at five a.m. he would wake up to the sound of Nates' bed creaking, followed by the subtle sounds of clothes rustling, the slight screech of his window and then the patter of his converse on the fire escape. The kid didn't even try to be quiet when he left-he just got dressed to do whatever he did. He would sigh and go back to sleep for a couple more hours, then get up to make breakfast, Nate flinging through the window just as he pulled their food off the pan. It was a silent agreement that was never mentioned throughout the months they spent together.

Sully would admit the first time the kid did this morning stunt scared the crap out of him; it had been a couple weeks since the incident in Cartagena. He had woken to find Nate's room empty, the bed unmade and his latest book on the nightstand. His first instinct had been to go look for him, but he swallowed down the strange feeling and made breakfast anyway. He had jumped out of his skin when Nate flung through the window next to him and landed on the kitchen tiles with a small thump. Sully had stared at him for a minute before giving him a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, not saying anything at all. Ever since then Sully had developed a habit of knowing when to wake up to hear the kid go on his daily walk, run whatever he did and fall back asleep. It was easy, really; he didn't ask any questions and the kid seemed to get more comfortable around him the less he tried to get him to open up. He could tell there was a difference in Nate every month he spent with him. The distance between them when they sat or walked shortened every few weeks, Nate would roll his eyes with a smirk when Sully made a joke instead of giving the fortune hunter a studying look. He still didn't talk very much, but one thing at a time. There was never an issue with their little pattern or the way they communicated.

One morning Sully woke up the usual creek of Nates' bed, but what he heard next had him frowning. Bare feet pattered hurriedly through the hall, the slam of the bathroom door and then…the all too familiar sound of someone puking their guts out. Sully pushed himself out of bed and walked down the hall towards the bathroom, the lurching sound still going steady. He tapped on the door with one knuckle.

"Kid?" he called. "Nate, you alright?" All he got in response was a wet cough. He grimaced and opened the door against his better judgment, but knew his assumption was right when he saw Nate; he was pale and clutching onto the toilet like it was his best friend, his thin frame looking even smaller for some reason. He didn't realize Sully was there until a rough hand pressed against his forehead. He reflexively flinched away from the touch, only to have the same hand grip his arm and tug a little. The teen tried to fight the pull, but Sully was stronger and managed to hoist him to his feet. He mumbled his regular objections as Sully pressed his hand against his forehead and cheeks. Sully clicked his tongue. Yep, he was running a fever. He moved behind a barely standing Nate and gently pushed him.

"C'mon, Kid." He led the teen into his bedroom and watched as he flopped down without a word, lying limply on the covers. Sully went back to the bathroom and got his thermometer. When he came back into Nates' bedroom, his eyes were drooping and he was looking green now instead of pale. Sully stuck the plastic in his mouth, hoping he wouldn't spit it out while he was gone. He rushed into the kitchen and retrieved a tin bowl he kept for bad nights with buddies. He was relieved to see that Nate didn't spit out the thermometer. He set the bowl down on the floor and plucked the stick from Nates mouth. 101.1. Sully shook his head and put the thermometer away. He was lucky he knew how to deal with the flu. He poured Nate a large glass of orange juice and coaxed a good few mouthfuls into him, even though the kid was insisting he was fine. Sully didn't listen to him and got him comfortable. By the time Nate finally gave up and fell into a fever/exhaustion induced sleep, his glass was empty and his face completely flushed.

Sully stood awkwardly for a moment to look him over. 'Maybe the kids' immune system isn't very strong...' he couldn't stop the worrisome thoughts from swimming in his mind. Did he have to deal with being sick all by himself in Cartagena? Has he ever actually gotten sick? He quit his thinking and left Nates' room to make breakfast-but something light for Nate. Hell, he'll probably chuck it back up, so what's the point of trying to feed him the usual. So instead Sully just made two pieces of toast and set them on the kids' nightstand along with a fresh glass of orange juice. He turned his head to study the teens' sleeping form before he shut the door with a quiet click.

Xx

When Nate woke up, his mouth was completely dry and his throat felt like he swallowed acid. His eyes felt so heavy it was tempting to just close them again. But then he caught sight of a tall glass of orange juice on his nightstand. He forced himself into a sitting position and snatched the glass, downing have of it in seconds. He immediately felt the fairly cool liquid run down his burning throat and slowly relieve it. He scarfed down one of the two pieces of toast but didn't go after the second. His stomach felt full and he didn't want to push. He glanced at the clock to see it was already noon. Yeesh. He had never been much of a sleeper-having no comfort in the depressing boy's home or the shady streets of Cartagena. that's why he left so early; he loved the cool morning breeze on his face while he leaped from building to building, seeing the sun rise with its array of pinks and oranges, the feeling of freedom, the undeniable bliss he felt when he looked over the city Sully lived in. it was a habit he'd give up on a cold day in hell-one of very small pleasures he held.

But at the moment-the last thing he ever wanted to do was get up. He had never been sick before; and waking up to your dinner rushing back up your throat wasn't a very good way to find out. He actually wasn't bothered with being sick-it was the sign of weakness he had given Sully. To Nate, leaving every morning was also a way to show Sully he wasn't going to cling to him like a lost puppy. It was a way of saying 'I want to be my own person,' and Sully never seemed to abject. But today; today he broke some of the support he had built for himself. Nate doesn't fully remember everything, but he remembers the feel of his mentors' strangely cool hands on his head, glass being pressed to his lips, and much more. He fell backwards onto his bed with a metal groan. He didn't want to seem weak in the middle aged mans' eyes. He didn't want to stay the scared kid he had saved. He wanted to be his protégé.

His brain registered the pressure in his abdomen, meaning he needed to use the bathroom. He sighed through his nose and pushed his body off of the soft mattress onto shaky legs to pad down the hall, his stomach not liking the sudden change in position. After he used the restroom, instead of going back to his bedroom he quietly snuck into the kitchen, where Sully was making himself a sandwich while he whistled a song only men his age would know. When he turned to get something out of fridge, he jumped at the sight of the teen standing in the kitchen entrance. "Godammit kid, gonna give me a heart attack doing that!" he sighed. Nate shrugged and leaned against the wood frame, feeling wooziness take him.

"How ya feeling?" Sully asked. The genuine question made Nate freeze. He had asked that question plenty of times-but something about it was different. Was it the situation? Or was it the foreign tone the man had used?

"Fine." He replied curtly, starting to feel the exact opposite. Sully scoffed and set his half made sandwich aside to gently grip the teens' forearm.

"Your poker face sucks kid. C'mon." Nate was about to protest. He didn't want to be cooped up in his room all day! But Sully carefully pushed him onto the couch, leaving just to get some stuff from Nates' room. Well that was a surprise.

The two soon found themselves lounging on the couch, watching some bizarre movie. Sully glanced at Nate to see him fighting off sleep, having eaten his other piece of toast not too long ago. It was a relief that the kid hadn't puked since that morning, but he wasn't letting his guard down.

"Just sleep, kid. You're not missing anything." Nate shook his head and tried to look more awake, but it was impossible when Victor Sullivan was looking at you. Sully gently gripped the back of Nate's neck and rubbed, carefully pulling him towards him at the same time. Nate felt his muscles unwillingly relax as his grogginess started to win the fight. His body fell to the side, his head accidently landing in Sullys' lap. Nate was trying hard to not fall asleep. Why? He felt like he had slept enough that day, and had a nagging feeling that he was far too vulnerable asleep. Part of his mind said 'what is there to be vulnerable to?' it was a good question really. What was there? He wanted to think more about the new found question but Sullys' was now rubbing his shoulders with a gentle pressure, pushing him into sleep.

The man looked down at the teenagers' face, the relaxation obviously being the cause of him finally going to sleep. He felt awkward and comfortable at the same time with the slight weight of Nate's head in his lap. His hand ended up running smoothly through the teens' messy brown mop of hair, his body loosening into real sleep the longer he did this until he was absolutely limp. A gush of more of that strange feeling that morning flooded his mind. He knew the kid wouldn't mention this when he was all better and lucid as ever. But in the end, Sully felt like he had reached the teen in a new way. As a friend.

**OMAGOD! This ended a lot better than I had in mind! Aww, baby Nate caught the flu! :3 oh sully, you softie. I hope u peoples like it cuz I'm planning on writing a lot more of these,**


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